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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28160064">From Ash Comes Rust</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/liminalumi/pseuds/liminalumi'>liminalumi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ace Five is hinted at but never explicitly stated, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Asexual Number Five | The Boy, Ben likes flowers, Bisexual Vanya Hargreeves, Detective Vanya Hargreeves, Except for 456 but not really, Except for 567 but they’ve been apart for like 15 years, Gen, Human Experimentation, I think?, I wrote this to procrastinate on my other fic, Implied Child Abandonment, Let Vanya See The Sky, Morally Ambiguous Characters, Shady government operations, The Commission, They’re not siblings in this!, This AU popped into my head and it won’t leave, Vanya Hargreeves Deserves Better, he’s alive tho, implied child prostitution, its not a good time, no beta we die like ben, so I must share it with you, the planet is dying, where do i start?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:14:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,055</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28160064</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/liminalumi/pseuds/liminalumi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Earth is dying. Or rather, it’s on life support. Later upon layer of metal and people encase the planet.</p><p>But that doesn’t matter much to Vanya. </p><p>Or; Vanya just wants to find her brothers and see the sky.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ben Hargreeves &amp; Vanya Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy &amp; Ben Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy &amp; Vanya Hargreeves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>From Ash Comes Rust</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <strong>
    <span class="s1">1.0.</span>
  </strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <strong>
    <span class="s1">Nineteen Years Ago</span>
  </strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <strong>
    <span class="s1">Sector 72, Ground Level</span>
  </strong>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">They were eleven. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">The world above didn’t matter, the world around didn’t matter, because the sky was waiting. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">They were eleven.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Each day, after they had scraped enough together for half a meal each, they would lay on the dirty ground that was cleaner than them, and stare upwards. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">They were eleven.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">The colorful bottoms of cars floating in near-perfect patters almost looked like clouds. They had no way of knowing if they didn’t.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">They were eleven. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Five came home with a black eye and a bag of apples. He wouldn’t say what happened. Vanya used bits of flour and water to make a crust, and they baked their pie with the heat from a power plant.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">They were eleven.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">The pie fed them for days. It fueled them for far longer. It kept them fighting.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">They were eleven.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Ben stole a mathematics book. It was the closest thing to a formal education the boys got. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">They were eleven.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Five was the best at it, and he used it to teach them to read. Vanya read it simply because it was something </span>
  <span class="s3">new.</span>
  <span class="s2">Ben ‘found’ many more books after that.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">They were eleven. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">That winter, Five got sick. One of them always did, but he was the oldest. They didn’t have any medicine, and it took two weeks for him to recover.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">They were eleven. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">A nice man claiming to be from Top Tier asked to interview Vanya. She asked if he’d seen the sky. He had, and she agreed to the interview.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">They were eleven.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">The man went missing two days later. When Five asked around about him, an Ensurer broke his nose.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">They were eleven.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Ben found a book about plants. Apparently, they grew in the sun, and produced oxygen. Vanya would spend hours reading about trees. Ben started making ‘flowers’ out of scrap fabric. Five learned of coffee and gained a new dream.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">They were eleven.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Vanya found a violin. She could’ve been a prodigy, could’ve gotten them off the ground level. It was stolen two weeks later.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">They were eleven.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Five was approached by an older man. He asked him if he wanted to join him for the night, in exchange for a basket of fruit and new clothing. He wanted to say no, Vanya knew, but Ben’s shoes had worn through the week prior.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Five was quiet the next day.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">They were eleven.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">They were eleven, and the sky was waiting.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <strong>
    <span class="s1">1.7. A Symphony In Sadness</span>
  </strong>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <strong>
    <span class="s1">January 15th, 8904, 10:43 PM</span>
  </strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <strong>
    <span class="s1">The Offices of Vanya Reeve, Upper-Lower Tier, Sector 72, Level 95.</span>
  </strong>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She had always wanted to see the sky.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">There were days where her world felt so small she thought she would burst. So many corridors, so much metal, so little sunlight. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">She would stand on her tiny balcony and gaze at the world above, sharp railing digging into the rough skin of her palms, and try to catch a glimpse of the brilliant blue she’d read about. Each time, she would be disappointed. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Vanya sits at her desk, reading a case file. Crime is so rampant these days, and she can never seem to solve them all. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Not even the truly important ones.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">A fan is rattling, her UV lamp that cost her three months’ worth of rent buzzing. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. She sighs, and gets a cup of coffee. It’s a subtle gesture, and probably a pointless one, but she feels as though it honors her missing brother. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He’d always wanted to drink a cup under the open sky.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">An hour later, and she’s still sitting there with nothing. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <strong>
    <span class="s1">1.6. Vertiversarry</span>
  </strong>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <strong>
    <span class="s1">October 1st, 8885, Vertiversarry, The End of the Horizonce.</span>
  </strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <strong>
    <span class="s1">Sector 72, Ground Level.</span>
  </strong>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He had scavenged for </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s3">days</span>
  </em>
  <span class="s2"> in the Upper Tier Fuel Basin. If Five had caught him, he wouldn’t have been able to leave his sight for at least a week. The Basins were dangerous trash receptacles, and sources of power. They were constantly burning, and steamy hot. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">But it was Vertiversarry the next week, and Five’s birthday. He needed to find something special.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">It was by sheer stroke of luck that he found a copy of </span>
  <span class="s3">The Sparrow Academy </span>
  <span class="s2">in time. It was perfect, and he tucked one of his flowers into the pages as a bookmark. For the first time since he gave Ben new shoes, Five smiled.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <strong>
    <span class="s1">1.5 Beginnings</span>
  </strong>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <strong>
    <span class="s1">March 9th, 8879.</span>
  </strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <strong>
    <span class="s1">Sector 72, Ground Level.</span>
  </strong>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">They were five, when he found them. Peacefully sleeping, tucked into an alleyway; their heads on each other’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He saw himself in them, that day.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He raised them, and in turn, they taught him of the world. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Eight years later, and they still hadn’t noticed that he’d never aged a day.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <strong>
    <span class="s1">1.4 Crimson Green</span>
  </strong>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <strong>
    <span class="s1">Who Even Frickin’ Knows?</span>
  </strong>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He knows that he was lucky to have gotten his job at the Greenhouse. He knows that it’s a good job. He <em>knows</em> that it’s a privilege.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">That doesn’t stop him from growing weed in his personal planter.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <strong>
    <span class="s1">1.3. Lies in Legitimacy</span>
  </strong>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <strong>
    <span class="s1">January 15th, 8904, 2:45 PM.</span>
  </strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <strong>
    <span class="s1">Miss Allison Chestnut’s Private Quarters, Middle-Top Tier, Sector 72, Level 332. </span>
  </strong>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">When she was eleven, her father went missing. He told her that he’d only be gone a week, that he’d be back to speak out against the horrific conditions on the lower tiers. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He never came back. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Now, Allison Chestnut, Actress and Activist, is planning to follow her father to the world’s underbelly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">It’s poetic, like something out of the plays and stories of old; to follow someone’s decent into hell.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Her destination? The home of the last person to officially speak to her father: Vanya Reeves.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <strong>
    <span class="s1">1.2. A Grievous Gamble</span>
  </strong>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <strong>
    <span class="s1">January 16th,8904, 12:40 AM</span>
  </strong>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Okay, so, no, the fight isn’t going well. He’s taken a few hits too many and—</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Well, shit. There goes tonight’s dinner fund.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <strong>
    <span class="s1">1.1. SpaceTech </span>
  </strong>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <strong>
    <span class="s1">January 16th, 8904, 6:07 AM</span>
  </strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <strong>
    <span class="s1">SpaceTech Level 38</span>
  </strong>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He’s staring at the stars when it hits him. Literally. A ball of paper falls from one of the upper levels and lands on his head. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Staring at the misshapen sphere in his hands, he has an </span>
  <span class="s3">idea.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He knows how to build the lunar dome. He’ll get promoted for this!</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Pencil meets paper as Luther sketches the schematics.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>To avoid confusion:<br/>THIS!<br/>IS!!<br/>A!!!<br/>PILOT!!!!<br/>Worry not, dear readers; if you enjoy this, more will come.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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